


Unpredictable Dreams

by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 09:01:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1812778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosed_quill/pseuds/lq_traintracks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It probably could not have been predicted that Harry's happiness would reside primarily between these two people and in their appreciation of his culinary gifts.  But then again, how much fun is there to be found in predicting things?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unpredictable Dreams

It probably could not have been predicted that The Boy Who Lived would someday find happiness in sautéing things. Vegetables to be precise: long, skinny, bright beans; slivers of carrot; stoic broccoli. And that he'd rejoice in the shout of steam coming up when he adds the sauce.

"Merlin Christ," Draco Malfoy whines as he shoots through the Floo at precisely six pm.

"Long day, dear?" Harry smiles, grinding pepper into his pan.

"I thought 'Merlin Christ' would have covered that, Potter," Draco says, trudging into the kitchen.

Harry slides over a glass of white wine, already poured, kept cold under a stasis charm.

It probably could not have been predicted that The Saviour of the World would have taken Draco Malfoy as a lover. Not by any sane person. But he did. And it works. And once Draco has sipped his wine, he leans in and kisses the cook, long and cool and delicious.

"Mmm," Harry moans appreciatively. He turns the heat down under the stir-fry.

"Where, by chance, is the other one?" Draco asks.

"Bath," Harry answers, giving his pan a jiggle and sending up a loud hiss.

"You two…didn't…?" Draco pouts. It's a stupidly good look on him.

"No," Harry smiles. "She's worse off than you. Too knackered for even a quickie."

Draco jabs him in the ribs.

"Besides," Harry tells him. "It's better with three."

Draco blushes then, and Harry loosens his tie for him.

"Hey," she says from the doorway, the smile apparent in her voice. She's still patting her damp hair with a towel, and she's dressed in one of Draco's dress shirts, unbuttoned to the middle of her chest.

Harry and Draco both, predictably, stare at the gaping V of her neckline – like clockwork, like cavemen – and Hermione rolls her eyes even as she blushes sweetly.

"Stasis?" Draco asks.

"Sure," Harry decides.

"Bugger that," Hermione interjects. "I'm bloody starving."

~

It probably could not have been predicted that Harry's happiness would reside primarily between these two people and in their appreciation of his culinary gifts. But then again, how much fun is there to be found in predicting things?

Late that night, he stretches and rolls over, colliding with the hard planes of his lover's body. Draco groans and rolls as well, pressing his arse back against Harry's groin. Harry is way too tired to get it up, of course, after the night they had. But that skinny arse against his cock is nice all the same.

A sleepy whisper comes from behind him: "Bad dream?" she asks, moving close.

He turns his head, finds her lips, kisses her for long moments. "No," he tells her. "A good one."

"Mmm," she smiles. She curls into his back, falling almost instantly back into slumber.

Harry closes his eyes on unpredictable dreams, his arm tightening around Draco's middle, and follows her.

 


End file.
